


Fess Up

by wickedsingularity



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:09:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9106063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedsingularity/pseuds/wickedsingularity
Summary: Prompt: "We're coworkers who hate each other but you had too much to drink at the staff christmas party and admitted your love for me i don't know how to act around you now"





	

It was the last fucking straw. I didn't know if it was the spirit of the season that made me extra aware of him, or if I had just about had enough of him prancing around looking illegal, but when Steve came out of the elevator, I thought I would faint. I actually grabbed Wanda's arm to steady myself. The world looked spotty for a moment and I drew deep breaths.

"What's wrong?" Wanda asked, both her hands reaching out to keep me upright.

I closed my eyes and focused on getting enough oxygen to my lungs and blood to my head. "Sorry, I just... felt a little faint," I replied, turning around from the sight of Steve in... No, I wouldn't go there. "I don't think I've eaten enough today." So, I made a beeline for the bar, motioned for the bartender, and asked for something to raise the dead.

"And drinking on an empty stomach is a good idea?" Wanda had caught up with me, and she had brought Clint and Scott with her.

"I meant I hadn't had enough to drink today," I corrected and downed the shot I was given. This open bar would be my sanctuary for the evening. It went straight to my head, and I felt slightly dizzy again, but I welcomed this kind of dizzy. I banged the glass onto the counter, asking for another. "Keep 'em coming."

* * *

Seven shots later, Wanda tried to get me to join her on the dancefloor, or at least to mingle, but I refused, so she grabbed Scott instead. Looking flustered, but pleased, he grabbed the witch' hips and started dancing very indecently.

I felt slightly jealous at the sight, not because I wanted either of them, but because I had just spotted Steve and wished that I was as free as Wanda. That I felt as confident in my own skin to go over there and ask him for a dance. To show him what I had wanted since I first laid eyes on him.

Narrowing my eyes in both fury at him and disgust at myself, I swivelled around and asked for another shot.

"Don't you think you've had enough of those?" a voice came from my side.

"Shut up, Clint," I replied and turned in Clint's direction, but he wasn't there.

"Here, doll." The voice tapped my shoulder and I turned to see Steve standing there.

I almost choked at seeing him up close, and couldn't help but look him up and down. Those black suit trousers, that all too tight blue shirt I hated more than Hydra itself. That hair that he had grown to like natural, now combed neatly in a style similar to how he liked it back in the 40s.

"Geraway, Rogers," I snapped and swatted at him, almost falling off my chair in the process. Steve grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling. " _Don' touch me!_ And don' fuckin' call me _doll_." I spat out the last word, shrugging him off. "And I don' like your hair like that. Better before."

"I think you've had enough of these." He tried to grab the shot glass from my hand, but I shoved my elbow into his side. Very unladylike, I might add.

"I said, _geraway_!" I made the mistake of looking up into his blue eyes and saw the hurt there, and felt my own eyes water. But Steve turned resolutely around and out of my sight. "One more!" I shouted at the bartender.

He poured the potion to raise the dead into my glass and slid it over. "This is your last one," he said.

"Noooooo, why?" I whined, squinting at him.

"Captain Rogers' order, ma'am."

"Whathehell? He's no' the boss o' me!"

"This is your eight, and this drink.... I'd recommend you ended it at three. You're gonna be in hell tomorrow."

I scoffed and downed the burning liquid. "I'm in 'ell every day, punk." And I flipped him off, stumbled off the high chair and aimed for an empty nearby couch. Falling ungracefully onto it, I moaned at the softness of it. Right in front was a huge Christmas tree, and even in my inebriated state I marvelled at the fact that I hadn't crashed into it.

The world was starting to spin and I groaned and laid down on the couch, staring unblinking at the colourful lights on the tree. I don't know how long I laid there, when I felt someone pull at my dress. I knew I should react to this, but I didn't have it in me.

"There," they said and my legs felt warmer. "No one needs to see what kind of underwear you're wearing." They moved in front of the pretty colours and suddenly the world moved again. My stomach churned at the motion and I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut and burping a little. They chuckled. "Let's get you to bed."

"You're not gettin' in my pants, mister."

"As much as I would like that, I quite agree with you, doll. I would want you to remember it."

"Only one person calls me doll," I whispered. "An' he doesn' wanna in my pants."

All motion stopped for a short second and my stomach soared in happiness.

"Yeah, who is that?"

"Ssssssteve." I sighed. My eyes opened slightly and saw something blue. Immediately I remembered the shirt Steve wore that night. "So pretty in tha' blue shirt."

There was a ding, and then we moved in a different direction.

"You like the blue shirt?"

"Blue shirt o' sex!" I giggled, then sighed again. I burrowed my head into a sweet smelling warm place and felt sad. "I love 'im. I love 'im."

There was a sound I couldn't place, then another ding and movement changed again.

"Doesn't he love you?"

"Noooo..."

"Why wouldn't he love someone as beautiful as you?"

"I mean to 'im. I wanna tell I sorry and love 'im."

There was silence for a long while, and I felt heavier and heavier, barely hearing the whispered confession of my ride. "I love you too."

* * *

The Stark Christmas party had lasted well into the early hours of the morning. Steve had gone to bed early, thankful Tony still had a room for all of them in his tower, even though it wasn't Avengers Tower anymore. The place had been eerily quiet when he got up for breakfast, seeing the mess all over. His head was a mess too after the confession she had given him in her drunken state the previous night.

He decided to go for a run in the cold, crisp air to clear his head.

She loved him? He couldn't believe it. After all the mean and spiteful words, the cold shoulders, the hateful glares. Was this another way for her to hurt him? Had she found out about his feelings for her and been so disgusted by it she had taken it to a new level of hostility?

Steve halted for a moment, glancing up at the still dark sky, dotted with stars. Despite the hostility from her, he had begun falling for her the moment he laid eyes on her. As an agent, she was smart, capable and one of the best. With her friends and fellow agents, she was kind, warm and loving. And he wanted more than anything to have her be like that with him.

And she did love him. No, she couldn't be.

The run hadn't cleared his head at all, and when he wandered back into the kitchen for lunch and saw her hunched over the counter, pale, tousle haired and half asleep, he froze. She gazed up at him, and he ran.

For the rest of the day, Steve avoided her. They all went back to the compound, and he avoided her. Christmas came, and he avoided her. By now, everyone else had noticed what he was doing, and Sam pulled him aside before dinner on Christmas Day to ask what the hell he was doing.

"I know she's always been mean to you," Sam said, "but this is getting ridiculous. You should either sit her down and try to find a way to get along with her, or sit her down and tell her you love her and maybe she'll come around. Stranger things _have_ happened."

Steve blanched and backed away a few steps. He didn't even know how to answer.

"Oh, come on, Cap." Sam walked up and clapped a hand to his friend's shoulder. "It's obvious. Besides, I think she's a bit hurt you're avoiding her. It's Christmas. Fess up. She's in her room." Sam winked as he left.

Steve's mind was racing. He was reliving Stark's Christmas party. He saw her at the bar in that beautiful green dress. He saw how she downed shot after shot, and wondered what made her drink herself away. He saw himself approach her again, heard her hateful slur, felt the cold chill of her shrugging him off. The venom in her voice as she told him to get away. _No more_ , he had told the bartender.

He had kept an eye on her, worried about her drinking. Steve had seen her stumble towards the couch and lie down. How her dress had slid up to reveal her smooth legs and thighs, the fabric bunching at her hips. Several of Stark's guests had been eyeing her, and Steve had walked over, murdering them with his glares on the way. He had pulled her dress back over her legs and picked her up.

She had reeked of alcohol and begun rambling. Saying how she didn't think he liked her, and that she loved him and was sorry for everything. She had said his first name for the first time. And it had made him feel so warm, even if it had been slurred.

Steve's heart was pounding and he came back to the present, surprised to find himself outside her door. He had never been in her rooms before, had never even stood in this spot. But now he found himself raising his hand to knock. After what felt like an eternity, it swung open to reveal a tidy, but warm room.

"Rogers," she said in surprise from behind the back of the couch.

"H-hi," he stammered. "Uhm, can I come in?"

"Sure."

Expecting a rude no, it took him a moment to register her answer and then walk inside.

She stood up and walked towards the small kitchenette. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No," he said quickly. "Uh, no. I just... I think we should talk... about... Stark's Christmas party."

With her back to him, she fixed herself some hot cocoa. "What about it?"

"Well, you got pretty drunk and –"

"Don't remind me." She shuddered.

"And you said some things to me while I carried you back to your room."

She froze while stirring the steaming mug. "I'm sorry?" She turned around, a look of confusion on her face. "You carried me to my room?"

"Well, yeah. You almost fell asleep on the couch and your dress had ridden up and people were looking at you and I didn't want anything to happen to you, so I..."

As he spoke, her eyes grew more and more confused, and he realised she didn't remember any of it. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uhm... Talking to Clint and Wanda at the bar, I'd had like... four shots."

"Oh." Steve sat down in the nearest seat and she joined him by the small kitchen island. "Why aren't you rude to me?" He blurted out.

She sighed, holding the mug of cocoa in front of her lips. "I don't have the energy. I'm sorry, though. For everything I've said to you, for disobeying you, for being a bitch."

"And I'm sorry for avoiding you lately. I..." Only then did he notice the mug was decorated with his shield and looked well used, and it made his stomach swoop. "I feel like I should tell you what happened at the party."

And he did. And her face grew redder and redder, and the mug covered more and more of her face. "Do you really? Do you really love me?" he finished, looking into her eyes, about the only thing visible, big, round and frightened.

"Steve," she began, and again it made him feel all warm. "I... I..." She set the cocoa down and looked down at it.

"Because I do. _I love you_ ," he confessed finally. "I've loved you since I first saw you. I've loved you through everything. I love you now. And I will always love you." He pried her fingers from the mug with his shield and held them in his own.

Her breath was uneven, but she didn't shy away from his touch.

"I've been avoiding you because I couldn't believe what you said to me. I couldn't take it if it was just... But I have to know. Is it true?"

Her hands twisted and her fingers threaded through his. "Yes." It was barely audible, but in the complete quiet of the room, Steve heard it. "I was mean to hide it. But I love you."

Getting off his seat, Steve rounded the bench and pulled her to her feet. He put his hands on the back of her head and kissed her and she wound her arms around his waist and he pulled her close and he couldn't believe how well they fit together and how her lips made his head spin and she smelled so good and...

Reluctantly, he had to emerge for air, but he leaned his forehead against hers, feeling their breaths intermingle. "I love you," he said officially.

"I love you too," she said.

* * *

And while the Avengers gathered for Christmas dinner, none of them questioned why two of their party was missing or why the occasional scream could be heard as the night progressed.


End file.
